


chance meetings (life has a way of getting to you)

by knockoffmulder



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Deanna POV, F/F, Hopeful Ending, Starfleet Academy, but they definitely end up together post-fic, deanna and tasha are gay bffs, posting on bevcrusherday bc she gave me the inspiration i needed to finish this, this is more of a character study than anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 00:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21024389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knockoffmulder/pseuds/knockoffmulder
Summary: a young, very bisexual and culture-shocked deanna troi meets a gorgeous woman in a bar.





	chance meetings (life has a way of getting to you)

In theory, applying to Starfleet Academy and moving to Earth was a logical decision; it was a way to advance her career in counseling in ways she couldn't on her homeworld, and to overwrite the memories of a doomed love affair by forging her own destiny within the organization that had so consumed him that even being imzadi wasn't enough.

In practice, the ungodly screech her mother let out when Deanna told her of her intent to leave Betazed almost made the whole endeavor not worth it. 

In practice, she was unprepared for the sheer culture shock that was San Francisco, Earth, and concentrated humanity. Being half-human wasn't enough when she'd never before set foot off her own planet. Being half-human wasn't enough when her connection to humanity was a long-dead father and a short-lived, ill-advised romance.

In practice, she was drowning. Speaking out loud all the time was exhausting. Rehashing all her medical training within new parameters was exhausting. The wariness of her peers when they learned of her heritage (and remembered the abilities innate to her), for all their claims of being above xenophobia, was beyond exhausting. She almost missed her mother, and Lwaxana Troi was a hard woman to miss. Deanna didn't want to let herself be pulled under; she didn't want to admit defeat and go scampering back home. But she was so tired. 

Not to mention, the first year courses required of all cadets included a fair amount of astrophysics, mathematics, and theory she didn't really understand and didn't care to. She was happy to let the Command and Operations track cadets handle the ship mechanics, thank you very much. She was far more interested in xenobiology. 

Her only friend at the Academy was a slightly younger girl by the name of Yar ("Call me Tasha"). They met in Astrotheory 101, a 200-student lecture class where they'd happened to sit together in the back corner. Deanna considered this to be especially fortuitous because she was not usually the type of student to sit more than a few rows from the front, but she'd gotten a bit lost on the first day and had to creep quietly in, seven minutes late. 

The surly girl loudly broadcasting a Don't Talk To Me attitude even to those without telepathy wasn't any fresh-faced cadet's first choice of seat neighbor, so the whole back row across from the door had been empty save for Tasha. Deanna had gamely introduced herself when the lecture was over, asked if she'd missed anything vital, good-naturedly taken Tasha's comment about being a hopeless goody-two-shoes, and then invited her to share lunch. Obviously, Tasha never stood a chance. 

All of this lead to Tasha taking pity on her and insisting that a night out would help her relax a bit from all the stress of the semester. Deanna had agreed on the condition they didn't go anywhere sleazy or even remotely resembling a dive. "Only the best for my classy lady," Tasha had agreed, with a smile that made Deanna's heart skip a beat even though she'd (mostly) left her crush behind in their first week of friendship. 

They ended up at a lounge bar far enough away from the Academy and the city center that there weren't any cadets around (at least not that they recognized). There were a handful of Starfleet officers off-duty but still in uniform, and probably more in civilian clothing. You couldn't really escape Starfleet in San Francisco, after all. 

There was a small band playing quiet jazz in the corner, and they blended in with the hum of conversation in a soothing, dreamy sort of way. She's left her hair entirely down, cascading over her shoulders, unadorned save for a small bejeweled headband which is only noticeable when it catches the light. Her favorite blue dress, slimming in all the right places, has her feeling attractive and confident, a change from how she's been feeling here on Earth. She knows this is the point of the evening, so she shouldn't be surprised by how nice it is to get out of the unflattering cadet uniforms and dress up. 

(Tasha whistles when Deanna opens the door, and tells her she looks beautiful. Deanna blushes, and is inwardly jealous that Tasha looks so effortlessly good in slacks and a slim-fitting shirt. She offers Deanna her arm for the walk.) 

They order drinks and find an empty booth in a secluded corner. By the time she makes it to her third drink, Deanna is relaxed enough to let her mental shields go a bit, and the emotions of the crowd wash over her in fuzzy waves. They've been chatting mindlessly, but Tasha has started to look across the room frequently and Deanna is curious about why. So she asks. 

"Just that I'm pretty sure the gorgeous woman sitting alone over there has been checking you out for about half an hour now," Tasha says with a smirk. 

"What? I doubt that," Deanna laughed. 

"I'm serious, Dee, there is a gorgeous redhead across the room who is definitely into you."

"How do you know she's not checking you out?" Deanna counters.

"Trust me, Dee, I know when a woman is interested in me or not. You should go over there," Tasha encouraged. 

Deanna hesitated, more unsure than she wanted to be. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, I do! Go get her, babe."

So she grabs her drink and makes her way across the room on mostly steady feet. "Is this seat taken?" she asks when she reaches the redheaded woman's table. On her way over, Deanna decided that Tasha hadn't been exaggerating even slightly; this woman was gorgeous.

"Please, join me. I'm Beverly," the woman smiled.

"Deanna," she said as she sat down. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Deanna." She felt, somewhat distantly, the attraction and admiration Beverly was feeling. The drinks and the music and the people still had her feeling pleasantly fuzzy, and everything about the situation feels a little bit unreal. They talk for a while, long enough that Deanna has at least another drink, if not two (she lost track, somewhere between discussing a play Beverly had enjoyed earlier that evening and the ethical implications of dilithium mining). 

When they move onto a recently published paper on a new medical study they've both read, Deanna learns that Beverly is also a doctor, and an advisor for students at Starfleet Academy in the Medical track. Icy dread clenches itself suddenly around Deanna's heart as Beverly asks what she does, and she has to admit that she's a psychologist and first year cadet.

Beverly smiles sadly and says, "This probably isn't appropriate, then. I wish you the best of luck, Deanna. It was lovely talking with you." She kisses Deanna's cheek and leaves her sitting alone at the table until Tasha comes over, some minutes later, demanding explanations.

xx

Years later, Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi is assigned to the Enterprise. She gets the news and ten minutes later an excited comm from Tasha-they haven't been assigned together since the Academy. 

Right before she hangs up, Tasha says, "I've got to go, but you'll never guess who the CMO on the Enterprise is going to be, Dee."

"Who?" Deanna asks, puzzled. 

"Beverly Crusher," Tasha says pointedly.

"Oh." 

xx

When Deanna and Beverly meet onboard for the first time, Beverly smiles at her, and it's just this side of flirtatious. She feels that same wave of emotions she felt from Beverly the first night they met, and she thinks, Maybe we've got a chance after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm doing my part to sail this goddamn ship, ok 
> 
> if u want to see me frequently yelling about bev and dee, follow me on twitter [@troicrusher](http://www.twitter.com/troicrusher)


End file.
